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My earliest memory of WW2 was of being a toddler in arms being carried to the mill at the top of our cul-de-sac, where there was a shelter, waiting for the custodian of the key and watching searchlights in the night sky. Another memory was of being taken down the cellar at home where a shelter had been created. i rember a quiet urgency by my parents. My baby brother in his pram and my eldest brother not wanting to leave his bed. The air raid warden shouting for lights to be put out and of watching a slug in a sand bucket.

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